


Cleaning Up The Mess

by Samunderthelights



Series: Drarropoly : 2020 [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Grimmauld Place, Drarropoly: Founders Edition - A Drarry Game/Fest, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samunderthelights/pseuds/Samunderthelights
Summary: Harry has been hiding away at 12 Grimmauld Place, trying his best to clean up the place. He has fallen into a quiet and boring routine. But when Draco shows up at his door one day, asking for his wand back, that quiet and boring routine of his is about to be broken.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly : 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023337
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	Cleaning Up The Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Drarropoly 2020](https://gameofdrarry.tumblr.com/).  
> I landed on Unicorn Hair, and I used the prompt 'Falling In Love'.

Harry is in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, on his hands and knees, trying his best to scrub off the many layers of filth. His friends had offered to help, Hermione had already gotten her wand out to help fix the place up with the use of magic, but Harry had politely declined her offer.

After the war, after the many losses. After his life had stopped revolving around trying to survive, and it had instead become about… what, he isn’t sure yet, he had found himself feeling even more lost than before. Because before he used to have a goal, something to fight for. Now people were starting to return to their lives, or people were starting to move onto their new lives. New friendships, new loves. Things which there never had been time for before.

But Harry isn’t sure what he’s meant to do now. So he had found himself hiding away at 12 Grimmauld Place, focussing on cleaning it up. Hoping that by the time he would get the job done, he would somehow have figured out what to do next.

It’s just another day of scrubbing and cleaning, but when there’s a knock on the door, he jumps up. But when there’s no more knocking, he begins to doubt himself. Did he imagine it?

He’s about to continue scrubbing the floor, when there’s another knock. So he grabs his wand, just in case, before going to the door to answer it.

He half-expects to find Hermione there, ready to tell him off for ignoring her. Or Ron, having come to check up on him. Molly even, to drop off another casserole to make sure he eats.

But when he finds Draco standing there, he almost slams the door shut.

“Give me a chance?”

Harry is too tired to argue, so he lets him in, before leading him into the now even messier living room.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologise.”

“Forget it, Malfoy,” Harry sighs. “It’s too late for that. Just go home, and move on.”

Harry can tell that his words hurt Draco deeply, that he was perhaps hoping for forgiveness. But Draco gives a nod, and Harry can’t help but respect him for taking it like a man. For not fighting him, or trying to defend himself. Make excuses for the things he has done.

“I also came to talk about my wand… your wand, I suppose,” Draco admits, still holding his head up high, even though even from where he’s standing, Harry can see his hands shaking.

“You can have it back.”

Harry opens the cabinet, and he takes out Draco’s wand, not having used it in months. Not since his own wand was repaired. He had meant to return it, but like so many things, he had put it off.

“I can’t just take it,” Draco mumbles. “It won’t work for me anymore.”

“I’m not going to fight you for it, if that’s what you think.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Draco says. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry scoffs, but Draco’s shoulders begin to slump, and he can tell that he is too tired to fight too. Too tired to even come back with a snappy remark.

“Disarm me, then,” Harry suggests. “You want the wand back, I don’t want it… it should work.”

Draco looks hesitant as he pulls out a wand Harry has never seen before, one that looks uncomfortable in Draco’s hand.

“ _Expelliarmus_ ,” Draco mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink, an embarrassed look on his face.

“You have to mean it.”

“I do mean it. I want it back,” Draco says. “But I don’t want to fight you for it.”

“Fine, then I’ll keep it.”

“No, I…,” Draco says, before letting out an uncomfortable sigh. He raises the wand, before taking a deep breath, and repeating the spell. This time louder, putting his all into it.

But his all is far too much to handle, and Harry can feel the force lifting him off the ground, and slamming him into the wall.

He falls to the floor, his ears ringing, a sharp pain going through his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean…,” Draco mutters, a look of shock on his face, before running over to him and kneeling down with him. “Are you alright?”

“Just take it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Just go!” Harry spits out, and Draco looks like he’s about to open his mouth to apologise again. But Harry pushes him off, flinching as another sharp pain goes through his arm. “Go!”

Draco quickly picks up his wand, looking over his shoulder another time, before running out of the house, leaving Harry lying there, feeling more embarrassed than anything.

* * *

Harry is just about to go to bed that night, when there’s another knock on the door. He is still upset at what had happened that afternoon, his head still thumping. So this time when he opens the door, he’s ready to send whoever is there away. Not tonight.

But when he finds Draco standing there, holding a large fruit basket in his hands, he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbles from behind the fruit basket. “For hurting you.”

“It’s fine. Honestly.”

“Take this, please,” Draco says, before handing Harry the basket, but when Harry takes it, he flinches, his shoulder still hurting. Draco notices, and it makes him look even guiltier and ashamed of what has happened.

“It will heal.”

“Let me help you.”

“I was going to go to bed, so…”

“Have you eaten?”

Harry almost tells Draco to go home, and to stop pretending to care. But it’s obvious that he does care, or he wouldn’t have bought this ridiculous fruit basket.

“Let me make you something.”

* * *

Harry didn’t think he’d see Draco again after he had left that night after they had had dinner together. But Draco had come back the next morning, and he had offered to help him clean up the house. It had still been uncomfortable, and Harry still didn’t entirely trust his motives, but he had let him help. And in silence, they had cleaned up the entire ground floor.

The only times when they had spoken, was when they had eaten together. But even then, it had been talk about the weather, or what room they would clean next. It had been awkward, and very obvious that they had never been friends. Perhaps – and probably – would never be friends.

But when they had made a start on the first floor today, they had found a bottle of some kind of homemade booze, and Draco had almost thrown it out. But Harry had taken it from him, and without hesitation, he had taken a swig of it, realising he didn’t even care if it would make him sick. Or worse.

They had sat down in the corner of the room, and Draco had watched on in silence, as Harry had drank down the entire bottle, muttering incoherently about his friends, his family. His enemies. Former enemies.

“You should go to bed,” Draco sighs, when Harry rolls away the empty bottle. “Sleep it off.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You don’t know what that stuff was, it could have been…”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Harry spits out, but Draco ignores him as he gets up, before grabbing a hold of Harry, and dragging him up to his feet.

He helps him to his bedroom, before forcing him into bed, ignoring his objections about how it’s too early to go to sleep. How he truly isn’t drunk.

But Draco ignores him, and he gently tucks him in.

“Goodnight, Potter.”

* * *

When Harry wakes up, he finds Draco sitting in the corner of the room, watching him with a small smile on his face.

“What are… how did… please tell me we didn’t…”

“You mean you can’t remember?” Draco asks, a wave of nausea washing over Harry.

The last thing he remembers is drinking. A lot.

How did he end up in bed? Why is Draco in his room? Why can’t he remember? Was he really that drunk?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sure it was great, but…”

“Relax, Potter,” Draco chuckles. “You passed out drunk. Wait, did you really think that you and I…?”

“No!”

“We didn’t,” Draco laughs. “I wouldn’t.”

“Thanks?”

“You were drunk.”

Harry almost asks him if he would have, if he hadn’t been drunk, but then he fully realises just what they are talking about, and it makes him swallow back his words.

“I’m still a little drunk.”

“Oh, really?” Draco teases, seeing right through his lie. “You should go back to sleep. It’s still dark out.”

“Stay?”

“I shouldn’t,” Draco says, before getting up, a pensive look on his face. “and I don’t think I should be coming over anymore.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, fully aware that he won’t be able to go back to sleep now.

He hadn’t been too keen on the idea of having Draco at 12 Grimmauld Place, but he has to admit that it has been nice. Even if it had been awkward, it had also been nice to have someone there. Someone who understood, even without saying a word. Someone who made him feel like he wasn’t alone in all of the things he was going through. Suffering through.

“Go to sleep, Harry.”

“Wait, Draco…”

* * *

Draco had left without saying another word, and as soon as Harry had heard the door slam shut, he had actually felt the tears well up in his eyes. He felt hurt, abandoned. But this was Draco Malfoy, not a friend. Not someone he was supposed to care about. So why did he even care?

It had taken him weeks to get used to being alone at the house again, but still he caught himself looking up, expecting to find Draco there. Hoping to find him there.

He remembered Draco telling him where he lives, so after yet another morning of hoping to hear that knock on the door, he had put his shoes and coat on, and he had gone to find the apartment.

It had taken him half the afternoon, but finally he had found it. But he had been too nervous to knock on the door, so he had gone to the coffee shop across the road instead. Telling himself that it was a stupid idea.

Draco was not his friend. He had made that painfully clear when he had stormed out that night.

But when he leaves the coffee shop, he runs into Draco, who stares at him, first with a look of shock, but then a warm smile forms on his face, and he leads him up to his apartment, where he makes him a cup of tea, before sitting down with him.

“What brings you here?”

“I ehm…,” Harry mumbles, staring down into his cup. “Just wondering if your wand works?”

“It does,” Draco chuckles. “Thanks for asking.”

“Good, then I should ehm…,” Harry stammers, already getting up, nearly dropping the tea. “I should go.”

“Harry, why are you here?”

“Why did you leave?” Harry blurts out. “Why didn’t you come back?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Harry disagrees, still awkwardly standing there with the tea in his hands. But when Draco pats the space next to him, he sits back down, feeling more than just a little embarrassed that he had come all this way, just to make a fool of himself.

“I thought it would be best to stay away, because…” Draco sighs, searching for the right words. “I was starting to develop certain… feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“Yes, Harry, I have feelings,” Draco chuckles embarrassedly.

“What kind of feelings?”

“You’re really going to make me say it, are you?”

Harry almost tells him yes of course, because he doesn’t have a clue what Draco is talking about. A hundred thoughts start running through his mind, but when he sees the blush on Draco’s face, he realises what he was trying to say.

“Oh!”

“Like I said, I thought it would be better to stay away. I only ever hoped to be friends. I never thought I would…,” Draco begins, but then he looks down into his cup, a shy smile on his face. “I did not think I would start caring. But it’s been nice, spending time with you.”

Harry replays the days they had spent together over in his head, and he thinks about all the times he had caught himself watching Draco. All the nights he had spent, looking forward to the next morning when Draco would be back. All the times he had almost asked him to stay.

That night, when Draco had walked out, and Harry had broken down, feeling like he had lost something. Although he hadn’t been able to articulate what it was that he had lost exactly. Or why it hurt so much.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” Draco sighs. “Because I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I…”

“It’s probably best if you leave.”

“No, let me speak, will you?” Harry spits out. “I miss you,” he blurts out. “I don’t know why, because it’s not like we’re friends, or… whatever. But I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Draco says, his face softening when he sees the blush on Harry’s face. “But you do understand what I just told you, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you still want to see me?”

Harry nods, almost telling him that maybe, just maybe, he has started to develop certain… _feelings_ too. But he can’t get the words out, because it’s only now dawning on him, and he isn’t sure how to put it all into words yet. Certain that if he were to open his mouth right now, he would blurt out the wrong thing, and ruin it all.

* * *

Harry had hardly been able to sleep, too nervous about seeing Draco again now that he was aware of all these _feelings_. Before, it had been a little awkward here and there, but he figured it was just because they didn’t know each other well. He didn’t think it was awkward because all he deep down wanted to do was grab him and drag him up to his room. Although he would still not admit to those thoughts now.

He has been walking from room to room, not actually being able to get himself to do anything, the adrenaline rushing through his veins, so on edge, that when there’s a knock on the door, he trips over his own feet, stumbling into the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Draco laughs, when he sees the flustered look on his face. “Is it a bad time?”

“No! Come in.”

When they go into the kitchen to have a drink, Harry can’t sit still, too nervous, too embarrassed that Draco will figure out exactly what’s going on in his head. But it’s exactly his nervous behaviour that makes Draco aware of it, and what brings a smile to his face as he watches him knocking over his drink.

“Should I go?”

“No!”

“Harry,” Draco laughs. “If it’s going to be like this, then…”

“It’s not because of what you told me,” Harry blurts out, the knowing smile on Draco’s face only growing bigger. “Or because of… it’s not like…”

“Because you feel the same way?” Draco suggests, the blush on Harry’s face growing darker. “Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, but then he sighs. “Maybe? I think so.”

“I shouldn’t have come back for my wand, huh?”

“Oh…”

“Well, it’s not as though we could ever…,” Draco scoffs, looking more embarrassed than anything. “You know. Take this any further, or…”

“Can’t we?”

“Can we?” Draco laughs, it only now dawning on him that this is a possibility. He laughs to himself, before covering up his mouth with his hand, looking giddy at having just realised this.

“I sure would like to see if we could be friends,” Harry says, before quickly adding. “More than friends, actually. We don’t have to tell anyone, or… not that I am embarrassed, it’s just that I’d like to see where it goes, before we tell people, and they…”

“Harry?” Draco cuts him off, laughing at his rambling. “Breathe.”

“Sorry… I’m a little nervous.”

“Me too,” Draco admits, before ever so carefully reaching out, and placing his hand on Harry’s. “But I’m happy to be back here.”

“I missed you.”

“So you said,” Draco teases, “You’re not just saying all this because you need help cleaning, are you?”

“How did you know?” Harry grins, but when Draco kicks his foot underneath the table, he can’t help but laugh, and he slides his fingers in between Draco’s, before bringing his hand up to his mouth to press a nervous kiss to it.

“What was that for?”

“No reason.”

* * *

There had been a lot of glances, filled with nervous tension, but they had been able to laugh it off and get on with the job. But now that they’ve decided to call it a night, there is a new kind of awkwardness. Because all Harry wants to do is ask Draco to stay, but is it too soon? What will he think? Will he get the wrong idea?

But when Draco is about to grab his coat, Harry knows that it’s now or never. So he grabs him by the shirt, and he slams him against the wall, before kissing him hard.

He half-expects Draco to fight him off, to tell him to leave him the hell alone. But Draco grabs him by the ass, pulling him even closer, and it’s obvious that this is something he had been wanting to do as well. That this is what they had both been thinking about, every time they had caught each other’s eye, and they had looked away, smiling nervously.

“Fuck,” Draco mutters breathlessly, as he rests his head against Harry’s. “If I’d had known it was going to be like this…”

“Then what?” Harry laughs, his hand lingering on Draco’s chest.

“I would have done this years ago.”

* * *

Harry is dreamily watching Draco trying to make breakfast, still thinking about last night, thinking about all the kisses, all the touches, how they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, when there is a knock on the door.

He almost feels that excitement of seeing Draco again, but Draco is right there in the kitchen, and he isn’t expecting anyone. So he grabs his wand, and he goes to open the door, not sure who he will find.

“Ah, Harry.” Hermione smiles, Ron with her, what looks like one of Molly’s casseroles in his hands. “We thought we’d come see you. It’s been a while, so…”

“Let us in, mate,” Ron interrupts. “This thing weighs a ton,” he complains, before pushing past Harry, and making his way into the kitchen, where he finds Draco, wearing nothing but a pair of Harry’s pyjama bottoms.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaims. “Malfoy!”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Ron asks, slamming the casserole down on the kitchen table. “And why is he… wait, are… oh, for…”

“Well…,” Hermione tries, as her boyfriend just stands there muttering, the colour draining from his face. “This is ehm… a surprise. Its… _lovely_ to see you… _Draco_.”

“You’re hooking up with Malfoy?” Ron asks, Harry shooting Draco an apologetic look. “Seriously? Bloody Malfoy, out of all the people in the world?”

“We’re not… hooking up,” Harry tries to explain. “We sort of… like each other?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I should go,” Draco says, but when he tries to leave, Harry grabs his hand. “Harry…”

“I like him,” Harry states. “So please give him a chance. For me.”

“But he’s…,” Ron tries, but Hermione shushes him, a pensive look on her face.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I am.” Harry nods, unaware of how embarrassed those words make Draco feel. How badly they make him blush. “We all deserve another chance, after…”

“Bloody hell,” Ron mutters under his breath, but then he sighs. “When you thought you had seen it all.”

* * *

“That went well,” Draco laughs nervously, after Hermione and Ron have left. “They hate me.”

“Give them time to get to know you,” Harry says, flashing a reassuring smile, before wrapping his arms around his neck, still feeling those nervous jitters. “They will get used to it.”

“I hope so,” Draco whispers, before lazily putting his arms around his waist and kissing him, as though it’s been like this between them for years. “Do you want to want to clean up some more?”

Harry nods, his fingers teasing over the back of Draco’s neck, a mischievous smile growing on his face.

“Where do you want to start?”

“How about the bedroom?”

**Author's Note:**

> http://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


End file.
